


Screams

by grey853



Category: professionals
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 12:51:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/867747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/grey853
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bodie is captured and tortured by an old foe and Doyle helps him deal with the aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Screams

Title: Screams  
Author: Grey  
Fandom: Professionals  


 **Screams**  
by Grey  
[Grey853@aol.com](mailto:Grey853@aol.com?subject=Screams)

* * *

"Where the bloody hell is Bodie?" Doyle threw his jacket over the back of the chair and scanned his memory one more time for some clue about his partner's location. 

"What'd you say, mate?" Murphy walked up, cup of tea in hand, his lanky form relaxed and obviously rested from the weekend. 

"I said where the bloody hell is my dumb crud of a partner. We've got a meeting with Cowley and he didn't pick me up this morning, rotten sod." 

"Haven't seen him, have I. Ask me, he's still tucked up with a bird somewhere having it off and thinking lovely thoughts while you cover his lazy arse one more time." 

Doyle shook his head, his hand running back through his curls. His anger faded into a nagging fear, the same tug of panic whenever his friend failed to arrive on time. "Something's not right, Murphy. He's a selfish bastard, right enough, but he usually calls to let me know where he is and I haven't heard a single word all weekend. Hasn't been at his flat since we left on Friday." 

"Then he's at the bird's place, right?" 

"Not likely. He rarely sleeps over unless he leaves out of town or lets me know." 

"So what are you saying? You think he's in trouble?" 

"Don't know do I, but there's something wrong." 

Murphy poured himself a bit more tea and settled down on the couch. "You worry too much, Ray. Bodie's just let his weekend stretch to the last minute. Not the first time is it?" 

"No, but this is different. Can't explain it, mate. Just feels wrong." 

Before he could say anything else, Betty called back to summon him. A sympathetic look graced Murphy's features. "Better you than me, mate. Cowley finds out Bodie's missing in action, he's going to be a right terror until he finds him. Wouldn't want to be your partner when he does, eh?" 

Doyle walked down the hall and barely made it inside his boss's office before he heard the Scottish voice ask, "Where's Bodie?" 

"Don't know, sir. Haven't seen him all weekend." 

Worried eyes magnified behind thick reading lenses gazed into his. "Then I'm afraid we may have a problem, 4.5." 

Ice slicked his belly before he spoke, his voice too near shaking. "Sir?" 

"Krivas escaped on Thursday and damn fool warden never let us know until this morning." 

"Bloody hell, sir." Swallowing hard, the air suddenly turned thick and dusty. "You think he's got Bodie then?" 

Clearing his throat, putting the file on the desk, Cowley removed his glasses. "Pull a unit together and find out. You know what to do, lad. Find your partner." 

"Yes, sir." Ray Doyle headed out the door, his mind fevered with ideas, his whole body launched into an adrenaline rush to find Bodie. He couldn't lose him, not now, not ever. 

* * *

Rolling over to his side, the groan scraped his throat, the sharp scratch of blood bringing on uncontrolled coughing. The damp soaking his clothes didn't help the wheezing thickness overworking his lungs. Hands bound behind his back, his shoulders ached worse with each spasm. After a few minutes, his body relaxed and short tested the air with smaller breaths. Opening his eyes, darkness inked the light and Bodie saw only shadows, mere slants of grey against black. 

Ignoring the roll in his gut, he shifted against the cutting gravel and braced his back against the wall to sit up. Dizzy, he closed his eyes again and tried to gauge how much time he'd lost since the last beating. From the steady dull cry of his bladder, he estimated a few hours, but couldn't be certain. No clues leaked through the small, high window, no voices or sounds hinted time or location. He pushed away the fingers of fear tracing the outer edge of his thinking. Krivas wanted him dead, but he needed him to suffer more, hungered to break him. Hell, the bloody bastard lived to deliver a measured and delicious pain to just get himself off. 

Bodie bit his lower lip at the Congo memories, pushed away the awful echoes of surviving that last session with Krivas and Irene. The woman's anguished screams shaved the inside of his skull into long, curved slivers. 

His head rested back against the cool, sweaty stone as an involuntary shudder caught him by surprise. Body heat drained away, the chill increased, his veins restricting circulation to bound arms and legs. Despite the throbbing pain in his gut and face, he just wanted to sleep, to block out the misery soaking through to his very bones. God, everything hurt. 

A click alerted him to sit up straight, his balance awkward, as he waited for the door to open. The flash of a bare overhead bulb stabbed at his eyes, his focus blurred watching the man in the doorway. 

"Hello, Bodie. Glad to see you're awake, luv." 

"Sod off, Barnett." 

"I'd like to, but he sent me down to make sure you're still breathing, didn't he. You're his pet, sunshine. He's getting ready for you upstairs. You know how he gets, all euphoric and intense like. Scares me sometimes our Krivas." 

His face set, his emotions pushed down by solid merc training, he shook his head in contempt. "Bloody errand boy, are you, mate?" 

"Yeah, but at least I'm not the one bleeding and bruised, am I, Bodie, old son?" 

"Doesn't mean you won't be before this is over." 

"Don't count on it. I'm not his type, am I." 

Grinding his teeth, Bodie closed his eyes against the throbbing pain at his cheekbones, sharp stabs radiating through his face up into his temples. He couldn't rub away the pressure, just endure it, the words roaring in his head. Breathing evenly took serious concentration, took his focus away from the leer and taunt of the man talking. After a few moments of silence, he stared back at Barnett, his eyes more clear but his jaw still clenching. "Yeah, you'd scream at the first blow, wouldn't you, mate. Not enough bloody challenge." 

"You know me too well, Bodie. Always did. You, on the other hand, are his favorite flavor, aren't you? All tough and stubborn, just like some bloody cinema hero. God, why don't you just give in and have it over?" Barnett leaned against the doorway, ankles crossed as he lit a cigarette, his eyes never leaving Bodie's. After taking a long drag, he shook his head. "Seriously, mate, you make most of your own trouble. He'd lay off if you'd just stop being such an arrogant butch bastard." 

"Sod off, Barnett. I know Krivas, don't I? Right nutter, is Krivas. Nothing I do short of dying's going to end this little dance party. Might as well stop talking and get it over with." 

"Eager to die, eh? Want to end up like that poor sod Tony?" 

"Eager to shut your fucking face, mate." 

"Right then." Dropping his cigarette on the ground, Barnett stomped it out with a twist and stepped closer. Bodie jerked his head away, startled as the hand pushed back his hair, blood-glued strands tugging at his skin. "You want to be tough, sunshine? Fine with me." The voice suddenly softened, the words almost a loving whisper. "But I could help if you let me." 

His head fuzzy, Bodie swallowed several times to lubricate his tongue. "How?" 

"Can't stop the beating, can I, but I could give you something to ease it a bit. Just a taste. Krivas wouldn't have to know." Fingers fluffed his hair, light touches of heat and caring. 

His tongue stumbled and pushed out the words. "What the hell are you on about then?" 

Pulling some pills from his pocket, Barnett held them close to Bodie's face, the white tablets blurring together in the palm. "A couple of these would take the edge off, wouldn't they. He's going to hurt you bad this time, sunshine. I mean, you've always been a right pain in the arse, but not even you deserve what he's planning. Take these and maybe you'll be able to stand it awhile longer." 

Wanting to resist, he found his mind rebelling. "What are they?" 

"Just some pain killers, nothing fancy, and nothing you haven't used before." 

"And what's your prize in this, mate?" 

"Don't like bloody screamers, do I?" 

"Not going to scream." He flinched away as Barnett squatted even closer beside him, his face tight and serious as his dark green eyes met his. A hand caressed his cheek, the slender fingertips stroking the whiskers. 

"Fucking brave soldier, eh? Well, tell me, Bodie, remember Sawyer from the old mob? Just a real tough guy, our Sawyer, eh?" 

"Yeah." The image of the man's face flashed before him, strong, and handsomely dark, and as hard as any CI5 agent. 

"Well, I saw Krivas do him. You want to know how bloody loud a brave man can scream when that bastard decides he wants to hear it?" 

Closing his eyes, steeling himself from the stabbing thought, his voice stalled, but then whispered, "I need some water." 

Reaching in his pocket, Barnett pulled out a flask. "Washes better with scotch, eh. Besides, it's all I've got." 

Opening his mouth, the bitter pills burned with the acid of liquid fear racing to his knotted gut. He squeezed his eyes shut and let a warm hand wipe the sweat and blood into an oily grit across his forehead. Pulling away as a mouth pressed gently against his torn and swollen lips, he muttered, "Bloody hell, Barnett, what are you up to then?" 

"Just a kiss for luck, sunshine. You're going to need it, aren't you." 

* * *

Staring down at the body on the slab, Doyle turned his head and closed an eye. "Can't be sure, can I. Half the poor sod's face is gone, innit." 

The coroner flipped a page on his board and nodded. "Well, the prints say it's Cusak. We're still waiting on the dental records. May take awhile. Your Mr. Cowley acted like it was important when he called earlier." 

"Yeah, it might be. Where'd you say they found him?" 

Reaching behind him, the older man grabbed a folder and handed it to Doyle. "That's a copy for CI5. His warehouse address is only a few miles up river from where they found the body wedged under a bridge piling." 

The hopeful wash of promise quickened as Ray's mind swept back over the details of the last time he saw the arms dealer alive. Isolated, the place worked as a perfect hide out and Krivas knew of Cusak's betrayal. "Thanks, mate. This could be the break we've been waiting for." 

Before the doctor could answer, the agent raced out the door, focused on calling together all his resources to find the one person who mattered in his life. 

"Hold up, Ray. Not so fast. Where are we going?" 

"Come on, Murphy. I think we've finally gotten a solid lead on where Krivas might have Bodie stashed away." He didn't stop until the taller man blocked his path. Impatient and suddenly angry at the delay, Ray's voice roughed up the air. "We don't have time to waste, mate. What's the problem?" 

"Look, I want to find Bodie as much as you do." 

"I doubt that." 

"I just think that we're jumping to conclusions. We don't know if this Krivas bloke even has him." 

"I know he has him. Now, either get the bloody hell out of my way or I'm going through you. Clear?" 

Stepping to the side, Murphy shook his head and followed close at Ray's heels, his voice still even but tense. "I just want to know why you and Cowley are both so sure that Bodie's not just off on a lark somewhere. Not like Bodie hasn't pulled this stunt before, is it?" 

Stopping dead in his tracks, turning, he faced off, his words like sharp knives. "Shut it, Murphy. You think George Cowley's got nothing better to do than run us over the whole bloody country trying to find a man who's not missing? Krivas swore at his trial that he'd kill Bodie, said it for the record, slow and casual like he was ordering a fine malt scotch after a long Friday. Gives me fucking chills just to remember how he said each bloody word, eyeballing Bodie the whole time. Now he's free and my partner's gone missing. You don't know what the sadist is capable of, but I know he shot a woman at close range with a .44 Magnum just because he was jealous. Imagine what he'd do to the man who sent his crazy arse to prison." 

"I'm sorry, mate. I didn't mean anything by it. Just not as sure as you are, am I?" 

"Move it and stop wasting time then. Tell your fucking doubts to Bodie when we find him." 

Before he could say if, Ray put his hand in the middle of Murphy's chest. "And I swear, if that bastard's killed him, you'd better not even try to stop me from shooting the son of a bitch. Got that?" 

Swallowing hard, Murphy started walking. "Don't worry, Ray. Nobody going to kill Bodie." 

"Yeah, well, Bodie might think so, but he's not bloody superman, is he." 

Reaching for the door, Murphy let him pass through as he added, "Just don't tell Bodie you said that when we find him, mate. Break his bloody heart, that would." 

Ray grabbed his keys and fumbled at the car's lock, praying he had the chance to tell his partner all about his own needy heart. 

* * *

The soft edges of sound filtered through white crystalline ether, the very air frozen lace. Shivering, his muscles jerked inside his skin, the tissues angry, his whole body resisting any control. Burning hands grabbed him and pulled him back up, the slap a punctuation to his waking. 

Words buckled against lips too thick and distorted. "Go to hell, Krivas." 

"We'll go together, Bodie. Meet all our friends there, too, no doubt." 

Fighting back the groan, he failed to keep quiet as he shifted harder against the wall. Blood and sweat stung his right eye as he tried to focus on the man standing just a few feet away. Krivas watched him, his thick jacket a protection against the cold. Cloudy puffs trailed out as he spoke. "Tell me how it hurts." 

"Won't give you the bloody satisfaction, mate. Sod off." 

The kick to the side of his skull married bone to brick and the blurry edges of blackness snatched away the weak light. Narcotic numbness gone, each blow lowered his resistance to wanting to end it, to scream and have it over. 

"Say that again, Bodie. Didn't quite hear that, did I." A few beats later, his head pulled back up, Krivas hissed, "Remember our lovely Irene? Do you?" 

"Yeah." The word gurgled with blood, his tongue thick and rusty with red. 

"A whore." 

"And you're a bastard." 

The fist buckled his chest, each gasp a flame searing through to his back. After a long round of coughing, the taunting voice started in again. "She liked when I beat her, liked to be fucked. Is that what you want, too? Is it, Bodie? Tell me about the pain." 

Oily and slick, the words drained down his throat, the mix of blood and spit choking him. Despite the pain, he curled his lips and smiled, exhaustion freeing his rage. "Fuck yourself, Krivas. You're the perfect bloody couple, eh. The only bastard who would love a sick fuck like yourself, you are." 

Hands grabbed around his throat, a vise against his windpipe, all air gone, bright flashes exploded, his brain pulsing against the jagged cracking of skull. Blackness drew him under, the weightless fall like a floating sense so much like drowning, he remembered childhood winters near the beach. Icy currents tethered him to shore only briefly, the roar of wind and sea like gulls crying in sympathy, Ray's voice the loudest calling. Salt biting his skin, his eyes broken, his body drifted into the netherworld of oblivion, the dark place sorely empty and frigid without his best mate. 

* * *

Thin light fevered his eyes as he opened them slowly, the punch of hospital air burning. Tears watered tired vision as he blinked several times to focus on the face leaning near him. "Ray?" His own voice scared him, not his, but a rasping croak from his throat. Muscles clamped down and made it almost impossible to swallow, the pain clutching and solid. 

"Don't talk yet. You've got a bruised windpipe that needs tending, sort of like the rest of you, eh." A hand stroked his cheek, warm fingertips walking up the side of his face and then combing his hair. Swelling chest ached with wanting to stretch and capture the touch forever, but his body ignored his desire to move. His partner's silky voice anchored him. "You're safe now, Bodie. Just sleep. We'll talk later. So much to say, sunshine." 

Questions spun out in a swirl, few things clear, everything madness. Eyes closing slowly, he drifted in the warm comfort of Ray's hand holding his, knowing only that he loved his partner. Such knowledge soothed his aches, the overwhelming torture eased with knowing Ray would always be there. 

* * *

Bodie groaned as he swallowed, the searing of warm tea sheer agony against damaged lips and the inside of his mouth. Every gulp caused protest as newly revived areas screamed to be attended. Like so many demands from his abused body, he ignored them and finished the drink with a frown. He put the cup down and let his head fall back against the pillow, the sudden spasm of strained shoulders not missed by his companion. 

"Need some more pain meds, mate?" 

"Not now, Ray. Too soon." His voice only whispered the words, but each syllable vibrated irritated tissue. 

"Not really. Doc said you could have more if you wanted. No reason to keep hurting if you don't need to, Bodie. No reason to be so bloody stubborn." 

Rubbing a hand at a temple to ease the pounding, Bodie spoke very carefully. "Makes me daft, pills do. Need a clear head." 

"What for? You planning on doing a budget or something?" The teasing smile lightened the color of the tired face. 

Ray leaned against the raised rail of the bed, one hand bracing himself, the other resting on the injured shoulder. Bodie relaxed, the constant nagging discomfort lessened by so simple a touch. "Need you to tell me what happened." 

Green eyes met his as Ray nodded, surrendering to the inevitable ugly revelations. "Okay, mate. What's the last you remember?" 

"Krivas tried to choke me." 

"Yeah, well, he almost succeeded. I came in at the last and shot the sorry bastard." A hand teased the bruises at his throat as sad eyes watered. "Thought I'd lost you, sunshine. Too bloody close, that was." 

"How'd you find me?" 

"Found Cusak's body. Sussed it out that Krivas might take you to the warehouse." 

All the time he spoke, Ray's right hand massaged his shoulder, lightly and not too hard. He focused on the rhythmic handling while the voice soothed him even further as he remembered the dank surroundings of his prison. "So that's where I was then? Cusak's?" 

"Yeah. Bodie?" 

Eyes closed, Bodie drifted avoiding the dim flashes of pain, the piercing screams stabbing his memory, the black and white images attacking behind exhausted lids. "What?" 

"We found some other bodies." 

He stiffened, the playback of the deaths too vivid to ignore. Pushing back the nausea, he nodded. "Yeah, I know. Barnett and Tony." 

"You knew them?" 

"Barnett, yeah. A lackey for Krivas from Africa. A stupid berk who crossed the man once too often." 

"And this Tony? Who was he? He was obviously too young for that mob. Did you know him, too?" 

"Yeah." 

"Bodie, what is it? Who was he?" The concern tightened the words, his partner's voice tense and worried. 

"Bait." 

He kept his eyes closed, too afraid of the judgment, of the potential loss. 

"Bloody hell, Bodie. Don't tell me that." 

"Have to, Ray. Krivas knew. He got me to a room and then got us both. Sick bastard took his time with him, made me watch. Poor sod screamed almost non-stop until he finally killed him." 

Nothing prepared him for the rush, the retching stealing his guts, the sour blankness that sealed his pain like oil stifling his already black heart. A cool cloth wiped his mouth and face. Finally strong arms wrapped around his trembling shoulders, the hug a fearless rescue. Words ran away and shivered in the darkness, fucking cowards. The young man's death became another blame, another dark trophy for Bodie's shame to shelter. 

* * *

"Something's wrong with Bodie." 

"He's busted up and still in hospital, sir. Just figured out something's wrong, did you?" 

"Don't be impertinent, 4.5. Now sit down." Cowley motioned him to a chair and added, "I'm not talking about his physical condition, but I think you know that." 

Crossing his arms, Ray stared back, his face set in stubborn resistance. "I don't know what you're talking about, sir. Doctor said he should be able to come home in a few days. He'll be fit in a few weeks after that. No reason to worry." 

"Your partner was tortured, Doyle. Forced to watch two men killed while being powerless to stop it. We both know Bodie. I don't think it's too much of a stretch to think he might feel a bit responsible." 

"That's crazy. He's not to blame for what happened." The anger coated the words, the tension pushing out his arms and curling his hands into fists. 

"Never said he was, did I? I said Bodie may feel that. The reports say he's having trouble sleeping, nightmares, and he won't take the pain medications. Have you asked him why?" 

"You tell me, sir. You're the one who's got him figured out, haven't you?" 

Cowley stepped to the cabinet in his office and poured two drinks, bringing one over and handing it to Ray. "Here." 

"Not thirsty." 

"Drink it, lad. We're on the same team, aren't we?" 

Reluctantly, Ray took the scotch, sipped and then drank the rest, the heat burning all the way down to his belly. After a few moments, he managed to find his voice. "I'm not sure why he won't take the medicine." 

"Any guesses?" 

"They'd just be guesses, sir. You have to ask Bodie." 

"Aye. He won't tell me either." 

Glancing up, Ray took in the weary expression, the concern genuine. "What do we do, sir? He usually tells me eventually, but this is different. He's closed himself off, like he deserves to be alone to suffer. Won't let me near him, not really, not since the first day in hospital." 

"You know him better than anyone, 4.5. Is he a danger to himself?" 

He wanted to say no, reflex almost took over, but he stopped himself. "I don't know. Maybe. I don't think he'd do anything directly. More like do something stupid." 

"Like ignoring doctor's orders or worse?" 

"Don't know. Honest, sir. Bodie's a hard man to read sometimes." 

"Aye." Cowley finished his own drink and poured another, offering a refill. 

"No, sir. I'm fine." 

Going to stand by the window, Cowley spoke without looking directly at him. "Do you think that if you had time alone with him, you could assess his condition better?" 

"Maybe. What do you have in mind?" 

"There's a safehouse up north, a cottage in a remote area. After his release, Bodie needs some serious downtime to work through his recovery and to come to terms with what's happened. I won't send him there alone, not when there's any doubt to his state of mind." 

"I could go with him, sir." 

"You know he'll argue." 

"I can argue right back then." 

"Aye, 4.5. I'm sure you can be more than convincing." Cowley smiled for the first time during the meeting as he turned to face him. "Try not to get up his nose too much, Doyle." 

"Don't worry, sir. Stubborn bastard won't know what hit him." Walking out the door, shutting it behind him, Ray smiled and thought of the powerful impact a kiss on Bodie's cheek might make. 

* * *

Moving stiffly, Bodie turned his whole body rather than test his neck. "I just want to stay home, Ray." 

"I know, but this will be better. Just the two of us out by the beach. It'll be lovely." 

"Lovely, my arse. It's the middle of bloody winter. This is Cowley's idea I'll wager." He continued to walk down the hall to his door, Ray beside him. Putting the key in the lock, he found it didn't budge. "What's going on, eh?" 

Holding up a different key, Ray moved forward. "Let me. Had to change the locks for security, didn't we." 

"Right. Security is it? Wouldn't be you just wanting to be the one in charge, eh, Ray? Bloody take over as soon as a bloke blinks more than once, you will." Fuming, his face clouded, Bodie stepped inside wanting more than anything to just go to bed. Instead he eased himself down on the couch and let his head rest, the persistent pounding drumming away the roar of traffic and a closing door. 

Ray's still calm voice steadied the air. "You're just tired, mate. Need to rest. Why don't you get undressed, take a hot shower, and crawl under the covers. Later I'll fix us some supper. We'll leave first thing in the morning." 

"See, take over, you do." 

"Bodie, stop pissing about and go to bed." 

He smiled at the familiar irritation, a tone he preferred. "Been waiting for that." 

"Waiting for what then?" 

"For you to finally lose your bloody patience. Tired of being your pet project, Ray." 

"Mad bugger." 

"Yeah, well, I'm your mad bugger, so leave off." He opened his eyes to see intense green eyes watching him too closely, the stare like a conjurer to truth. "Ray, I just need some time to myself, eh? Not much to ask, is it?" 

"Yeah, it is, sunshine." 

"Is it?" 

"You're not talking to some bird or Murphy here, Bodie. I know you're hurting over this thing and I'm not going to let you wallow around feeling sorry for yourself. Got that." 

Anger gripped him before he could stop it, his tongue lashing words too harsh, too damning. "You're not going to fucking let me? Who the bloody hell are you, Doyle?" 

"I'm your partner, that's what. I know how you're feeling, Bodie. You've got to let it go, mate. Wasn't your fault about Tony." 

"Shut up. You DON'T know how I'm feeling. You don't really know anything about me." The shaking took over and he struggled to control the wild screams inside his head, the twisting of gut against the hatred of his own weakness. 

The sofa dipped beside him and he swung out, a skilled hand stopping the blow before contact. "You don't want to belt me, sunshine. Might as well smack yourself." 

"Go home, Ray. Just leave me alone." 

"Can't do it, mate. You're stuck with me, no matter. Get bloody well used to it." 

Tough words spoken softly spun a magical calmness as arms drew him closer, his forehead resting on a bony shoulder. 

"God, I'm so fucked, Ray." 

"I know. We'll work it out, Bodie. I promise." 

"How? By running away? By hiding in the middle of fucking nowhere?" He lifted his face, too weary to be embarrassed, the tears still burning against his cheeks. "Won't make the screaming stop, will it?" 

Puzzled eyes stared back. "What screams, Bodie?" 

Closing his eyes again, he let his head drop once more, the pull against sore muscles still painful. "Too many to count. I should be right deaf by now." 

A hand petted and stroked the back of his head as Ray held him, the slow breathing a comfort. "It's all right, sunshine. Just rest." 

"Can't. Too noisy in the dark." 

"Then I'll lie down with you." 

Easing back, Bodie shifted away, the promise in the words too scary. "Ray, what's going on?" 

His partner held his gaze, his right hand reaching out to touch his retreating chest. "I should've told you before all this happened. I tried, but you shut me out." 

"Tell me what?" 

"You can't guess?" His knee nudged Bodie's as he leaned closer, touching his belly. "You're a bright lad, mate. You know I'm not just into birds, never have been. You did know that, right? We never discussed it, but it's no secret." 

"Yeah, I knew. So?" 

"God, Bodie, don't be so bloody thick. Can't you see I'm in love with you? Have been for awhile now." 

The squeezing of his heart matched the turning of his gut, the heat from his partner's hand a focal point of attention. Despite that, doubt and anger still controlled his tongue. "Why tell me now? You feel sorry for me? Pity poor mad Bodie is it?" 

Shaking his head, the brown curls like a dark halo against the light, Ray's face settled only a few inches from his own. "Do you believe that?" Each soft word melted against his ear, each rub edged him closer to the full lips. 

"No, but this is really bad timing, Ray." 

"I know. Can't help that, can I." A warm air carried the words, the breathing pushed against his lips as a hungry mouth pressed to his. The tongue lightly probed and entered, making the quickest of visits with a few fast licks before retreating. Pulling back, he caressed his cheek as he spoke. "You're an irresistible bastard and I want to help." 

"Sweet talker, you are." 

"Yeah. Now, let's put you to bed, mate." 

He groaned as his partner moved away and tried to help him to his feet. "God, Ray, you wait until I'm too battered to move to tell me you love me? That's bloody cruel, mate." 

"Not as cruel as a man who keeps his partner in the dark about liking blokes, eh?" 

"No, not as cruel as that." The weight of yet another regret slowed his advancement to the bedroom. Ray nudged him harder, the poke playful but instigating a short spasm. "Damn, you're going to pay for that when I'm better." 

"I'm counting on it, sunshine." 

* * *

Skittering rocks and broken shells rolled in the steady tide, tan foamy fingers lacing the grey sand. Hands stuffed deep into wool pockets, Bodie stared out at the slate sky, winter's bluster an icy brine against his bare cheeks. Ignoring the plaintive wail of lonely gulls, he turned and headed back to the cottage. The narrow world crushed in on him and he needed to see the one bright spot in an otherwise dark universe. 

As soon as he stepped through the door, wood smoke tickled his nose along with the smell of fresh breakfast tea. A voice too like music warmed his heart. "Morning, sunshine. Nice walk?" 

"Fine, Ray." 

"Then why do you look like you just came back from a double round with Macklin then?" 

"Leave off. I'm not awake yet. Need my cuppa, don't I." 

Taking off his coat and scarf, he hung them at the door and wiped the sand from his shoes before stepping to the stove. He poured the hot brew and then settled at the table, both chafed hands drinking in the warmth of the mug. Ray sat down across from him, his own drink in his hand, his eyes steady and watchful. 

"Wish you wouldn't do that." 

"What?" 

"Keep looking at me like I'm about to go drown myself or something. I'm okay, Ray. Really." 

"Don't seem okay, mate. Really." 

"I'm sorry. Just got a lot on my mind, that's all." 

"We need to talk about what's going on in that daft brain of yours, mate. Tell me what you're thinking." 

"I can't, Ray." Shadowed eyes stared across, the fatigue heavy like his own soulful bruises. His partner's concern mirrored his own, but guilt knifed his heart and the slow bleeding shame drained him. "I know you want to help, but this is my game, not yours." 

"A game is it? You think blaming yourself for being human's a game now?" 

"I'm not saying that." 

"Then what?" 

"I don't want to talk about this, Ray." 

"Right then. You planning on going through the rest of your life without sleeping are you?" 

"I wish." 

"Well, I don't. I'm bloody tired, Bodie. You put on this tough front, but at night you're a right mess, you are. You can't keep this up. No one could, not even superman Bodie." 

"Never claimed to be that, did I. Just leave off. I'm not in the mood to fight." 

"Neither am I, but I'm not letting this go. Tell me about the nightmares." 

"They're just bad dreams." Squeezing his eyes shut, he pushed away the frightful vision of Irene's blasted face, the bone and blood mixed like thick crimsom paint against his skin as he held her. In the dream he screamed to call her back from the dead only to have her lipless mouth accuse him of letting her die. The faceless corpse whimpered about impotence, a cold hand stroking his withered cock, the blaming words carried up on bubbles of blood to kiss his waiting ear. "Shit." 

"What?" 

"I hate this." Pushing back from the table, Bodie stood and walked to the window, his head down as he braced against the sink. "They just won't leave me alone, all these people I've failed." 

Ray's body pressed up behind him, leaning in, the heat welcome. "What people, Bodie?" 

"Irene, Tony, so many others, Ray. People I've never told you about." 

Arms wrapped his waist as his partner's head rested on his shoulder. "You're a good man, mate. You did what you could. Krivas and all the other mad bastards we've fought against, that you've fought against, they're the ones to blame, not you, sunshine." 

"You don't know that, Ray. Krivas murdered Irene because she was going to run away with me. Tony, poor sod, just happened to be in the wrong place. Jesus, the screams." He shook his head as he tried to muffle the vibrations haunting his thoughts. "I've killed people, but I've never liked it, not like Krivas. He got off on hurting people, I mean, really got off, Ray. God, what a sick fuck was Krivas." 

"Yeah, so I figured. Saw the stains, mate." 

In a voice so low he barely heard himself speak, he whispered. "We were friends once." 

"Yeah?" 

"Shared Irene for awhile even." 

The catch of breath behind him lasted just a second before the words. "So that's it then? You feel guilty because you missed how twisted he really was before." 

"Should've seen it, eh? You don't know what he was like, Ray. On a mission, he'd get high on the violence, on the rush. We'd come back to camp and fuck like maddogs, both of us with Irene. She liked the pain, didn't she, needed it and we gave it to her. Both of us, not just Krivas. Bloody unbelievable how good it was between the three of us. It was only when I got greedy and wanted to run away that he turned. Irene ended up dead and I ended up in a bloody Congo prison." His stomach heaved at his own words as he fought to keep the rebellious tea in his belly. 

The voice at his ear remained even, breathy but familiar and calm. "So now you punish yourself again? You think making yourself feel like shit will change anything, do you?" 

"I'm not punishing myself, Ray." 

"Aren't you? The nightmares are your penance, your atonement for these godawful sins you think you've committed." Passion fired the words as Ray pulled away and turned him around to face him. "God, it's a damn shame Krivas isn't alive so I could shoot the bloody bastard all over again. He's done a right number on your head, sunshine." Tender hands captured his face, forced him to stare into his partner's determined eyes. "I wish you could see what I see." 

"And what's that?" 

"An honorable man who'd give his own life to save a mate. Why is that goodness so hard for you to believe in?" 

"Because I live with myself, Ray, and I'm not who you think I am." 

"No? You think I'm just some lovesick bugger who just sees what he wants to see then?" 

"Maybe." 

Shaking his head, Ray stepped back, releasing him. His body ached with the absence. "I'm going out for awhile." 

"Ray?" 

Holding up a hand, Ray's sad face hardened. "Don't, Bodie. I need to get away for awhile, and you, mate, need to take a serious look at yourself. Think about who I am and if you really trust me or not." 

"Of course I trust you, Ray. I love you." 

"Yeah? Damn, Bodie. Do you realize that's the first time you've actually said it out loud?" Eyes locked to his and he watched a greater cloud sweep across clear green. "And I'd like to believe it. You really don't know how much." 

"What do I have to do to convince you?" 

"I want you to think about who you think I am." 

"What? I don't understand. You're not making any sense, Ray." 

"Do you seriously think I'd love a bloke as evil as you seem to think you are? Do you? 

Bodie rubbed his forehead, the power of his partner's words sharp, bloody hooks snagging at his brain. "I'm sorry. I'm just confused right now, that's all." 

"You're right fucked at the moment, no doubt about that, mate. Maybe more of a mess than I can help. I don't know. I'd like to think you still care about getting better." 

"I do." 

"Yeah? Listen to me then, you crazy bastard, and I mean really listen. You're a good man, Bodie. One I trust with my very life. You need to believe that as much as I do." 

Swallowing hard, the lump of words too thick to come out cleanly, he forced them forward. "Don't leave me, Ray. Please." 

Arms wrapped his shoulders and he heard the shushing sound of his name over and over, everything distant and yet closing in around him. Sinking into the powerful connection, his very bones sagged with the weight of exhaustion. Guided to bed still fully dressed, he slumped and folded, spooned back into the strong supporting body of his partner. Sleep drew him down, but fear stayed just outside the edge of the shimmering shadows, just at the border of his own screaming madness. 

* * *

The sucking at his neck pulled him to the pale light as he took deeper breaths, each one bringing him closer to full consciousness. A hand snaked around his middle while the other teased his hair. The slow swelling of arousal added to the delicious heaviness of waking. "God, Ray, that feels fine, mate." 

"Like that, do you?" Licks and tiny nibbles coated his ear and flesh, his whiskers fired by the contrast of heated tongue and cool air. 

"Yeah." Blinking several times to clear his vision, his partner's labors brought a smile. "Hungry?" 

"Missed breakfast and lunch, didn't I." A low moan sent shivers through his shoulders as once again an eager mouth worked against his heated skin. "You taste salty like the sea air. I like it." 

The vibration of the words sizzled his brain as he shifted back to find his partner's arousal pushing against his backside. Startled, he froze completely at the realization of need. "God, Ray, what are we doing, mate?" 

Stopping for the moment, Ray pulled far enough away to let him turn on his back, his naked form above him. Raising a hand, he tested his fingers against the fuzzy warm chest hair, found a nipple hiding, and teased it. The catching breath and shudder pleased him. "What happened to your clothes, eh?" 

Letting his body lean forward, Ray's smooth, husky whisper spread the words across the short distance, his hands rubbing up and down over Bodie's wool sweater. "Too many of the bloody things between us. Get naked, mate. Join me. Feels good being here like this." His face lowered, swollen mouth barely brushing his with just the slightest tip of tongue. 

"You sure?" 

Humping his erection against his thigh, he smiled, the desire blacking his pupils even darker. "Feel sure, don't I?" 

"Feel like a horny teenager, that's what." 

He chuckled deep in his chest but stopped laughing as Ray shifted and straddled his groin, his stare mesmerizing. "Horny, yeah, but I'm no bloody teenager, Bodie, and neither are you. I know what I want, don't I. Have for a long time." 

His breathing more labored, his partner's nude form holding him down, words came out sluggish. Doubt like thick webs stalled thinking, his overwhelmed brain wrapped in foggy clouds. "What's that, Ray? What is it you want from me?" 

Ray crisscrossed his forearms, leaning forward to support himself while he spoke, calm and direct. "Don't be afraid, Bodie. I see it in your eyes, mate, sheer terror, eh? I scare you that much, do I?" 

"Don't talk like a nutter, Ray." He tried to turn his head, to break the telling gaze, but found a forceful hand holding his chin, the restriction like an iron mask, steady and unyielding. 

"Look at me, Bodie. Tell me what you see." 

"My partner acting right crazy looks like." 

"Yeah?" 

Reluctantly, he admitted, "No." 

"Then what? What are you afraid to say?" 

Breathing 12-foot spikes would've be easier than speaking. "You scare me, Ray. I don't know what you really want. I don't want to hurt you." 

"You won't hurt me, sunshine. Never that." The honey-rich voice coated his hearing, the words like sweet melted chocolate on the starved tongue. Casually as a lazy cat, Ray released his chin, licking it several times before kissing it gently. He pulled back to add, "And I won't hurt you either. Promise." 

"I'm not afraid of that." 

"Aren't you?" 

"I trust you." 

"Prove it then. Take your clothes off and join me." 

His breathing too challenged, he begged, "Help me." 

Without another word expert hands and fingers shifted his body upward, the sweater over his head and gone, the oxford beneath it unbuttoned and dispensed with. Undressed like a sleepy child, Ray took off his shoes, and stripped off his jeans and his briefs. He spied his results as he shoved him back down on the bed with a bounce, fully exposed. Licking his lips with satisfaction, he spoke with a hush of reverent appreciation. "God, Bodie, you're so bloody beautiful." 

Glancing down, he saw only the fading bruises, the scars, and the aging surface of his own form. His cock and balls lay hidden in dark curls, limp and useless. Embarrassed he reached to pull up the covers, only to have Ray stop him. "No. I want to see you." 

"I'm cold, Ray." 

"Not for long. Spread your legs and I'll warm your gorgeous bones, sunshine." 

Reflex opened his thighs to the hushed command as Ray climbed on the bed to kneel between them. The mere touch of his cock to groin tightened him all over, the thrill a delicious reaction to silky heat rubbed against its twin. His partner wrapped a hand around him, the swelling a slow hiss of greeting to his dulled brain. Sparks flew up his middle, the fiery touch arching his spine. Babble sprang from his throat and dribbled from a dumb tongue, words meaningless and yet inspiring. Ray's whole body pressed against him, thrusting, his voracious mouth stealing what little air he could manage while vacuum space collapsed his unresponsive lungs, traitors to survival. 

Every dulled nerve fired at once, thrilled to sizzle power to his belly, building to critical mass, traveling to one purpose. Explosion rattled his skull, surrendered his closed eyes to an impossible blast of light, blinding, but vision filled, each haunt fractured and suddenly quiet. Every bone cracked and singed to cinders and ash, every sensation bursting at once. Pain against pleasure squeezed every muscle and then pumped one last time before releasing, sheer sensation forced up from his center. 

His sudden scream scraped the bloody throat raw. Ray Doyle touched his very heart and swallowed his fear, his doubt, and his black soul. His best mate gulped down the stunning yell without even a whimper or moan. Body shaking, he held on, arms clutching his partner, both their labored breathing and racing heartbeats straining all healthy limits. 

Gasping, still not recovered, he shook his head. "Bloody hell, Ray. You're a talented bugger." He kissed the top of damp curls and smiled. "Thanks." 

"Love you, Bodie." The breathy words soothed him, his eyelids suddenly too heavy to stay open. Ray's nude form still draped his body, totally relaxed and heavy. Whispering in his ear, he added, "You okay, sunshine?" 

"Lovely, mate. Never better. Really." 

"Lucky we're in the middle of nowhere then." 

"Yeah?" 

"You screamed bloody murder, you did. Would've scared the neighbors in town. Didn't know you were such a noisy sod." 

He snorted and shook his head. "Never was before, mate. Bring out the howler in me, you do." 

Raising a sleepy face, Ray smiled. "Do me best, sunshine. Now, time for a kip, eh?" 

"Maybe we should clean up first." 

"Naw." The lazy drawl tickled his chest. "Waste of time really." 

"How's that?" 

"Make another mess later, won't we." 

"You think so?" 

"Messy business, love." 

"Think so?" 

"Know so, especially with a nutter like you. Now go to sleep, Bodie. Need my strength, don't I." He squirmed and wrapped his arms tighter, his knees pulled up slightly, but still between spread legs. Just that small movement triggered another twitch, a pleasing sensory blast to thicken his cock. The chuckle against his chest shook his whole body as Ray petted his crotch, the slippery fluid letting his hand slide freely between them. "Greedy bastard. Go back to sleep." And with that he pulled the blankets up and over them, his deep laugh near a growl. 

Suddenly playful, more content than he could ever remember, Bodie whispered, "Jesus, Ray, I think you've created a monster." 

Still fondling the half-erect cock like a new play pretty, Ray smiled, his lips curled back, smug and happy. "And training the randy sod will keep us both busy, eh?" A few short strokes and squeezes brought him all the way back, the ache as strong as the first time. 

"God, Ray." 

"I can't believe you can be so hard so soon, mate. So bloody hard. Should've figured." A brief sigh turned his voice sultry. "Don't close your eyes. I want you to look at me when you get off this time." 

"What about you? Let me touch you." 

"Too soon for me, luv. Later." The whole time he talked, a heated palm pumped him, the other hand rolling his balls, the tightness near pain, but a wonderful hurt that stretched muscle to bone. Sweat slicked his thighs all over as he worked his hips in the rhythm of Ray's fist, his eyes never leaving the piercing green watching him. Once again the rolling pressures wound through his gut, the tension gripping him, only this time slow and easy, taut to breaking, but not quite. Eyes closed only an instant and the movement stopped. 

Groaning protest, he pleaded, "Jesus, Ray. Please." 

"Look at me." 

Vision fluttered and he focused, the intense stare stealing his breath all over again. "I love you, Bodie." 

The tender smile merged with pure sensation, generous weight as the stroking action renewed in earnest. Struggling to keep the gaze, he moaned with the effort not to sink into the solid clench of his body contracting. The uncontrolled jerks rushed through almost as strong as the first time. With a startled scream, his throat too sore to stop it, his heels dug deeply into the mattress while Ray milked the last of him before he could breathe again. 

Musky hands caressed his face, gently wiping the clinging spill of tears from his bearded cheeks. Turning his head, he captured and kissed the palm still slick with his own semen. "God, Ray. Don't ever leave me." 

"Never, Bodie. We're best mates. Forever." 

"Promise?" 

"It's in the fine print, sunshine. Now go to sleep, you greedy bastard, before I have to get rough." 

Teasing, suddenly careless, Bodie whispered, "Maybe I like rough, Ray. Deserve it, don't I." 

"Bloody hell." Groaning in fatigue and frustration, Ray pushed himself to sit up, his eyes squinted, his mouth still swollen but now angry. "You're a right mess." 

"Why, because I'm being honest?" 

"Honest about what? Wanting to be hurt?" 

"Maybe." He turned his head, Ray's disappointed stare too much to handle. The chill froze his skin, his euphoria gone, replaced with the sinking regret of revealing too much. 

"Don't fucking do that." Ray lay beside him, his face back in his view, the green eyes tired and sad. "I hate when you shut me out like that." 

"I'm sorry." 

"I know. Look, we've both got a lot to think about, and I'm really too tired to deal with this right now. Don't want to say anything wrong, do I." 

"I don't mean to spoil things. Just do." 

"God, Bodie." Arms drew him closer, his head resting and petted as Ray held him, his heart beating steady beneath his ear. "Just rest now. We'll talk later." 

Settling against the warm skin, his own arms folded in against himself, he sighed, "I'm not an easy bloke, Ray. You know that." A chin rubbed against the top of his head, but no words came from his partner as he hugged him just a bit tighter. 

He closed his eyes, the deep and rhythmic pumping of his lover's heart a lullaby to lure safe sleep from the shadows, a chant to create dreams without taunting spirits. Nestled there he drifted, worried, but hopeful. The rare heart so near his own drummed away the haunting whispers, the blaming voices turned to screams that threatened his peace. Ray Doyle tamed the anxious spirit, not with violence, but with the strength of his own faith. Damaged and limping, Bodie's mind settled down, accepted the gift shyly and found his place in his partner's protective arms. 

Ray's gentle voice enthralled and soothed him as he shifted inside that embrace. "Settle down, Bodie. Just sleep for me now." 

And he did. 

THE END 

Dedicated to Rob for the inspiration and support Feedback kindly appreciated at [Grey853@aol.com](mailto:Grey853@aol.com?subject=Screams)


End file.
